Gasoline
by WildestDreams121788
Summary: Are you insane like me? Been in pain like me? You can't wake up; this isn't a dream. You're part of a machine; you're not a human being. I think there's a flaw in my code; these voices won't leave me alone. Russian orphan Ellie stumbled and fell. Now a former assassin is living in her apartment and her entire world is upside down. What will she do when the past comes to claim them?
1. Chapter 1

_Oh Lord, oh Lord, what have I done? I've fallen in love with a man on the run. Oh Lord, oh Lord, I'm begging you please don't take that sinner from me. — The Devil's Backbone, the Civil Wars_

* * *

 **October 15, 2015**

As the hours of her shift ticked by, Ellie couldn't help but notice the man sitting at the bar closest to her espresso machine. He'd come in an hour after her shift started, and now, seven hours later, he was still there, on the same barstool, with the same latte mug he'd ordered when he'd gotten there. He'd spent most of the time writing in a notebook and reading through other handwritten notebooks, but now he just stared at Ellie with hard blue eyes as she bustled around the tiny kitchen making drinks. She'd never seen him in the café before, but he didn't seem to have any intention of leaving anytime soon.

As closing time approached, Ellie was collecting ceramic mugs from around the café on a tray, sighing heavily in exhaustion, when suddenly one of the overly long strings of her knee-high combat boots caught on the hooks of the opposite boot so that when she stepped, her feet couldn't separate far enough. She fell on her face, the ceramic mugs crashing to the floor and shattering. Ellie felt her right arm stinging as warm, sticky liquid coated her forearm, groaning as she slowly pushed herself off the floor. Her eyes suddenly found a pair of black boots in front of her, and she looked up to find the man from the bar stooping in front of her, his gloved hand halfway extended to her as if he had started to reach out to help her up then stopped. He blinked, breaking eye contact, then shook his head slightly and said, " _Here, let me help you._ "

Ellie nodded as the dark-haired man began to clean up the pieces of mugs, then after a moment's thought, replied, " _Thank you, but it's ok. I've got it._ "

He shook his head. " _You're hurt. Let me help you, please._ " He nodded at her arm as she managed to get to her feet, still crouching over the broken coffee cups.

Ellie looked down at her arm, shocked to find that it was bleeding rather profusely, and she noticed the shine of tiny fragments of ceramic sticking out of the wounds. She hissed at the sight, her eyes widening as the blood began to drip from her arm. She tried to pick up the tray, but he had already taken it, piling the larger pieces onto it. Ellie started stuttering in English, "I – I – please, I —"

His eyes shot to hers, a flicker of something Ellie couldn't identify in them. "You speak English?" he said eagerly.

Ellie nodded. "Yes, I'm American," she answered quickly, unsure of what to make of this stranger.

"I'm American, too," he said, frowning slightly as he looked at her arm. "I can help with that, too."

Ellie shook her head. "Please, it's ok. I have to close the café…"

"Then close it," he said firmly. "But let me help you."

His request had so much authority behind it that Ellie found herself slowly standing, leaving him crouched on the floor as she quickly ushered the one other customer left out and locked the front door behind the gray-haired old man, leaving just the two of them in the café. Her arm was beginning to burn more deeply, and she bit her lip to keep herself from whimpering at the pain. When she turned around from the door again, she was surprised to find that the entire mess she'd made had been cleaned up and swept away, leaving the floor cleaner there than the rest of the floor around it. The man stood by the counter, a broom in hand, staring at her. Without a word, he turned and walked to the back room of the café, and Ellie quickly followed, surprised that he would just let himself back there without at least waiting for her permission. By the time she caught up with him he was at the desk in the back, the first aid kit open on the cheap metal desk. He banged his left hand on the desk with what looked like little effort, but after the strangely metallic collision sound that filled the air, Ellie thought it looked like the desk was a little dented, but the lights were so dim in the back room, she felt fairly certain it was a trick of the light. "What are you —" Ellie started, but he pushed past her back out into the main café.

A minute later, he was back with his backpack. His long dark hair hung in his eyes as he dug through the backpack before he pulled what looked like another first aid kit out and slammed it on the desk. He ripped the bag open and pulled out a pair of tweezers, hydrogen peroxide, and a clean rag. "Sit," he ordered. Ellie found herself obeying without hesitation, his voice so powerful that she didn't think she could have said no if she'd wanted. She dropped into the chair by the desk, and he knelt down on one knee in front of her, tweezers in hand. He took hold of her arm in his left hand, his fingers hard but gentle, and he frowned at her injuries, then began to pull the pieces of ceramic out of her arm. Ellie squealed in pain as the first of the larger pieces left her flesh, unable to hold it in this time. He winced at the sound but ultimately ignored it, dropping the shard on the desk next to them. "Talk through the pain," he said. "It makes it easier. Gives you something else to focus on."

Eyes stinging with tears, Ellie asked, "And say what?"

He steadied her shaking arm in his hand as he said, "Tell me your name."

"Ellie —" She stopped with a whine as the tweezers reentered her skin and found another sliver of ceramic and pulled it out. "McGee. Ellie McGee."

"Why are you in Bucharest?" he asked.

Ellie ground her teeth as hard as she could as she tried not to scream from the pain he was inflicting by helping her remove the slivers of the mug from her arm. When the tweezers were free of her arm again, another shard extracted, she said, "College. Semester abroad. What about you?"

He froze mid-motion, the tweezers now abandoned on the desk as he'd reached for the clean rag. "What?"

"Who are you?" Ellie asked. "Why are you in Romania?"

He hesitated for a full minute, then he said quietly, "Bucky." He poured the hydrogen peroxide over the clean rag, then he added, "I'm just living here." Ellie started to ask another question, but then he said, "This is going to sting." Ellie's arm trembled in his grasp, then he pressed the alcohol rag to the cuts on her arm, and she gasped and tried to yank her arm away from the cold, harsh peroxide cloth, but Bucky's hard grip on her arm only tightened, easily keeping her arm still. She whimpered at the pain, feeling totally pathetic for being so weak in front of this handsome stranger who was just trying to help her, then a moment later, the pain was gone. Cool air rushed her wounds, and Ellie sucked in air as Bucky put the rag down on the desk and pulled bandages out of his first aid kit. He delicately wrapped the white bandages around her forearm as he said, "There we go. All better, doll."

Ellie couldn't help but snort at that. "Doll? Really?"

Bucky's face reddened slightly. "Sorry. Old habits and all." Ellie just grinned at that, but then she paid more attention to the man in front of her. Bucky was highly muscular under the layers of jacket, sweatshirt, and jeans, but he looked more exhausted than Ellie could remember ever seeing anyone. His attractive face looked sad and thoughtful as he pinned the bandage shut on her arm, his gloved hand tenderly stroking her forearm once before he suddenly pulled away from her, eyes going wide as he let her arm fall to her lap. "There. Now you won't have to go to the hospital."

The corner of Ellie's mouth twitched upward as she watched him stand. She said quietly, "I've got to finish cleaning up and closing down the café."

"Can I help?" Bucky offered, seeming a bit uneasy with the idea, which struck Ellie as a bit odd.

Ellie shook her head. "I couldn't ask you to do that. Besides, you've already helped a lot," she said, gesturing to her arm.

A hint of a smile crossed Bucky's lips. "I'll get the mop," he said, totally ignoring Ellie's answer. Ellie sighed, not understanding why he was staying, but grateful that he was none the less. With her arm as sore as it was, mopping would have taken her ages to get done, and she was already still at work later than she should have been.

Ellie took on the dishwashing while Bucky made quick work of mopping the floors. When he was done, he returned to the back room and joined Ellie at the sink, taking over washing the dishes from Ellie. He easily pushed her aside, handing her the clean dishes, which she dried and put away. When they were done, Ellie grabbed her jacket from the hook on the wall in the back as she said, "Well, Bucky, thank you for your help. We're pretty much done here, though, so I guess —"

"May I walk you home?" Bucky asked suddenly, a flash of something Ellie couldn't interpret in his tired eyes.

Ellie started to say no, but then she thought about her neighborhood and the man who always hung around her street near her building that made her nervous every time she spotted him, the one she was almost certain must be a drug dealer. She shivered slightly as she slipped on her Sherpa-lined bomber jacket and said, "Umm, yeah, that would be nice. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Bucky said, picking up his backpack and letting her lead the way out of the café.

They stepped outside, and Ellie locked the door behind them, then she set off in the direction of her apartment. They walked in silence for the first block, then Ellie asked, "So, are you a writer?"

Bucky's head snapped up from where he'd been staring at his feet, looking at her strangely. "What?"

"The notebooks," Ellie explained. "The ones you were reading and writing in all day. Are you an author, or…?"

"Oh," Bucky mumbled, and Ellie thought she saw his hands shift in his jacket pockets, though she couldn't understand why they would. "Not really. It's… I guess you could say I'm writing my memoirs? I've got some memory problems and writing it all down helps me remember."

"Oh, that makes sense," Ellie said, offering him a small smile. Bucky nodded, not meeting her gaze. She offered, "I'm studying psychology. I want to be an equestrian therapist."

"A what?" Bucky asked, finally looking at Ellie.

Ellie chuckled. "An equine therapist. It's a psychologist who uses horses as a tool for therapy for their patients."

Bucky turned that over in his mind for a minute, and Ellie could see the gears working in his brain through his tight facial expression. "That sounds like it'd be interesting," he finally said.

As the pair turned a corner, Ellie said cheerfully, "It is. It's very effective, too."

They were nearing her apartment building when Ellie spotted them. There was the man who was always hanging around her street, in his usual black hoodie, with a teenage boy, clearly exchanging goods — drugs, if Ellie had to guess. She shivered slightly at the sight, accidentally catching Bucky's attention. He glanced back and forth between Ellie and the guys down the street as they reached the steps of her building. "Do you want me to stay until they leave?" Bucky asked suddenly.

Ellie hesitated. "It's ok. They're here all the time doing… whatever the hell it is bad guys like that do. I'll be ok."

Suddenly, the two guys down the street started yelling at each other in Romanian, and Bucky, seemingly automatically, took a protective step between Ellie and the probable drug dealers. "I don't mind," Bucky said firmly, leaving no room for Ellie to question him. "Get inside," he ordered as the street light reflected off something metallic down the street in the older man's hand.

All hesitation lost, Ellie quickly turned and rushed inside and up eight flights of stairs thanks to the broken elevator, only realizing when she reached the front door of her apartment that Bucky was no longer with her. "Bucky?" she called softly, then gasped when she suddenly heard the bang of three gunshots outside the building. "Bucky!" she called again, louder this time.

Scared witless, Ellie slowly headed back down the hall and into the stairwell, the heavy door slamming behind her. She peeked nervously over the edge of the railing of the stairs, where she could see all the way to the ground floor just as Bucky reached the bottom of the first flight of stairs. His eyes snapped to her, looking a little wild and lost. "I told you to stay inside!" he snapped, running up the stairs to her.

As he reached her, Ellie demanded, "What just happened?" Bucky grabbed her arm and pulled her into the main hallway, the metal door slamming against his left shoulder with a strange metallic clink as he pushed through it. Ellie forced him to stop when they reached her apartment door, pulled out a key, reached to unlock it, then stopped. "What the hell just happened out there? I swear, I heard gunshots."

Bucky huffed. "That's because there were gunshots. Trust me, doll; you don't want to see what just happened out there. Now can we please get inside?"

Ellie nodded, then silently unlocked her front door and pushed it open. Bucky ushered her quickly inside, and she turned on the light of the studio apartment. She rushed over to one of the two windows in the apartment that overlooked the main street, and she quickly spotted the place where the men that had been standing outside. However, both men were now gone, though she couldn't possibly imagine where they'd have gone. "Where —"

"The one shot the other. I guess he took the body with him. I didn't exactly stick around to see where he dumped the body," Bucky said coldly, standing awkwardly between the couch and the bed.

Ellie swallowed hard. Bucky had been pretty nice to her so far, but this man clearly had sharp, ragged edges, and Ellie was starting to feel like she was going to cut herself on one of those edges any minute. "Oh," Ellie breathed, then she turned back to him, slowly approaching him. "Are you ok?"

Bucky's fierce blue eyes met Ellie's gray ones, a bit confused. "What?"

"Are you ok?" Ellie asked softly again, nervously tucking a loose strand of straight strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. "I mean, you did just watch someone being murdered. That's not exactly an easy thing to witness."

Bucky chuckled darkly. "It's not the first time I've seen…" He trailed off, then started again. "I used to be a soldier."

"Oh, wow," Ellie said, surprised. His shoulder-length brown hair didn't suggest former soldier, but he certainly looked strong enough to have been one. "Well, thank you for your —"

"Don't," Bucky snapped. He took a breath, then said, "Sorry, it's just… I didn't volunteer. I was drafted. I didn't want to be a soldier."

Ellie sat down on the couch, then patted the seat next to her. He sat down beside her, and she asked, "What did you want to be?"

"What?"

"Well, if you didn't want to be a soldier, you must've had some idea of what you wanted to be instead."

Bucky thought hard, his face screwing up in concentration. "I – I don't know. I – I can't – I can't remember…"

"Ok, that's ok," Ellie said quickly, trying to calm Bucky down as he started to become erratic. "You don't have to remember. Why not just take a deep breath? It's all ok."

Bucky breathed deeply through his nose, rubbing his stubbly jaw with one gloved hand as he held his breath. As he let it out, he mumbled, "Sorry. I just… Nothing. Sorry."

"It's ok," Ellie said gently.

The two just sat in silence for a little while until Ellie's phone beeped in her back pocket. She pulled it out and saw that it was her alarm reminding her to go to bed so that she could make her 9 a.m. class without stress. "What is that?" Bucky asked curiously, staring at the device in her hand.

Ellie frowned at him. "It's my smartphone?" she said, confused by Bucky's puzzlement.

Bucky shook his head, his cheeks flushing. "Sorry. I guess I just… forgot those were a thing now."

Ellie felt stupid for not realizing that it was probably just part of his struggle with amnesia. "That's ok," she said. "I guess you don't have one then?"

Bucky shook his head. "No, I've never needed one."

Ellie nodded slowly, then she noticed the painful emptiness in her stomach, most likely due to not having eaten since the night before. She elected to ignore it, however, when a large black cat suddenly jumped onto the back of the brown faux leather sofa, landing lightly behind Bucky, and he immediately spun around, his hand grabbing the cat around the waist roughly while the cat yowled in fear and pain. Horrified, Ellie gasped, "Bucky, no! It's ok; let her go! She's just a cat!"

Bucky released the cat as suddenly as he had grabbed her, and the cat hissed at him boldly and swiped at him with one paw, her sharp claws catching him across one gloved hand which he had automatically raised to defend his face. Then the black cat quickly retreated, racing under the bed to hide from the man who had just assaulted her. "Ellie, I'm so sorry," Bucky rushed, turning to her so fast that Ellie almost wasn't sure if she'd actually seen him move. "I didn't realize it was… I would never have hurt a cat normally. I'm so incredibly sorry."

"It's ok," Ellie said quickly. "I'm sure it was an accident, and she didn't seem to be truly hurt. Let's just forget it."

Bucky nodded eagerly, looking more thoroughly exhausted and ashamed than ever. He looked her up and down for a moment, then asked, concern replacing the shame in his face, "Are you hungry?" Ellie shook her head, lying. The man in front of her still seemed like a generally decent fellow, but the longer she was around him, the more dangerous he seemed, and she had no desire to accidentally find herself eating with some strange new kind of criminal mastermind. "Oh yeah? When was the last time you ate?"

Ellie huffed, annoyed by his persistence, "I don't know, this morning? Maybe last night?"

Bucky shook his head, jumping to his feet. "All right, I'm going to cook you dinner."

Ellie stood and followed him into the tiny kitchen space of the apartment, saying, "Bucky, please. That's not necessary. You really don't have to do that. I can take care of it myself."

Bucky flipped on the light switch for the kitchen light, taking in the utter disaster that was the kitchen — dirty dishes piled in the sink, used pots and pans stacked precariously on the stove, random pieces of trash scattered across the counter. Bucky smirked, "Yes, it looks like you're doing an excellent job of that. Looks like it's been like this for a while."

"I suppose it has," Ellie snapped, turning red with embarrassment. After all, it wasn't as though she'd planned for this stranger to end up in her apartment, and certainly not in her kitchen. "I've been very busy between schoolwork and the café. It's just sort of piled up, and I haven't had time to clean it up."

Bucky shrugged, not pressing the issue. He took a quick look inside the refrigerator, only to find a quart of spoiled milk, another pint of milk that appeared to not have expired yet, spreadable butter, and some questionable eggs. He opened the cabinets to find a few random cans of beans, flour, baking powder, a few spices, and sugar. Shaking his head, Bucky muttered, "No wonder you haven't eaten. You don't keep hardly any food in the house."

Ellie rolled her eyes at him. "I usually eat when I'm at work. I'm not exactly great at the whole cooking thing," she growled, thoroughly annoyed with the dark-haired man in her kitchen. "Besides, food is expensive, and I don't make much money. My money goes to rent and cat food instead of food for myself."

"You still have to take care of yourself, though," Bucky insisted.

"Well, what about you?" Ellie growled. "You seem well-fed enough, but you look like you've been living on the streets for a few weeks now! Or am I wrong?"

Ellie grinned in satisfaction as Bucky's eyes left the cabinet to stare at her in surprise. "You're not wrong," he admitted. "I make my money stretch to keep myself healthy, but I'll admit, I've had trouble finding a place to live that I could afford."

"Ha!" Ellie exclaimed, scrunching up her nose at him. "I'm not the only one who's struggling then, so just back off, ok?"

Bucky raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry, didn't mean to offend you," he said, a bit more gently.

Ellie nodded her acceptance of his apology. Bucky started pulling things out of the cabinet and fridge. "What are you doing?" Ellie demanded as he started to wash her frying pan.

"Making pancakes," he said with a grin.

"But —"

"Stop fighting me on this," Bucky said with a short laugh that threw Ellie even further off guard than she already was. His whole face seemed to lighten as he found himself a mixing bowl and washed it, making him look several years younger than Ellie's first estimation, then he began to throw ingredients together. "I was the oldest of four," he said suddenly as he was beating an egg, Ellie watching him in astonishment. "Three younger sisters. My mom taught me how to cook after my father died so that I could feed my sisters while she was away at work."

Ellie leaned against the refrigerator door, a bit surprised he'd offered this piece of personal information. Bucky didn't exactly seem the type to share his personal history with just anyone, so she felt the need to reply in kind. "My parents adopted me from Russia when I was four and brought me home to Raleigh, North Carolina. My biological parents were a Russian scientist and a musician from Romania. My parents — my adoptive parents, that is — died in a car crash almost four years ago. I took some time off from school, and then when I went back, I decided to do a study abroad here in Romania. I guess I wanted to try to connect with the place where my biological mother was from or something."

Bucky looked away from the pan just before he began to pour batter into the hot pan and looked at Ellie, his eyes filled with deep pain. "I'm sorry you lost them all," Bucky said quietly. Ellie shrugged, then he insisted, "No, really. My mother and sisters are all gone now, too. I'm the only one left, so I understand what you're feeling."

"Haven't you got any grandparents or aunts or uncles or something?" Ellie asked.

"No. Don't you?"

Ellie shook her head. "No. Well… Yes, actually, but they don't want anything to do with me. My grandmother took care of me for a while, but… she didn't approve when I took dropped out of school, so she kicked me out, and my aunts and uncles never really wanted anything to do with me. I was adopted and already an adult so…" Ellie shook her head. "Anyway, my grandma doesn't take my calls anymore, but I send her postcards and letters and things whenever I get the chance. I've no idea if she actually reads them or not, but I hope so."

"I'm sure she does," Bucky said confidently. "You've been her granddaughter for how long?"

"Nineteen years," Ellie said quietly, her heart throbbing in her chest with the sudden overwhelming feeling of loneliness. Her stomach growled impatiently as the smell of pancakes wafted through the air towards her, and she glanced down to see two already finished on a plate next to the stove. She hadn't even noticed him wash the plate or make the pancakes, she'd been so lost in their stories.

"That's a long time," Bucky said. "I'm sure she loves you as if you were biologically hers. She's probably just struggling with her own pain at losing your parents, that's all. I'm sure she'll come around." Ellie nodded thoughtfully, doubting the truth of his words, but he was sweet nonetheless. He pushed the plate towards her and held out a clean fork to her, surprising her again as she must've missed him washing that as well. Then she noticed that he still had his leather gloves on, and they were wet, and she thought it strange that he wouldn't have taken them off by then, especially considering he had washed dishes. Thinking back, Ellie also remembered that he'd not taken them off to wash dishes at the café either. "Here, eat," Bucky said softly, jerking her back to the reality in front of her.

Ellie took the fork from him, using it to spread some butter on the pancakes before hesitantly taking a bite. He watched her as the pancake currently in the pan began to bubble. The fluffy, purely American pancake practically melted in Ellie's mouth, and she couldn't help the tiny moan of happiness that escaped her at the taste. "Good Lord, these are amazing!" she exclaimed. "Seriously, I don't think I've had homemade pancakes since my mom… since my mom died." Her excitement died down as the thought of her mother no longer being alive invaded the forefront of her mind again.

Ellie felt certain that Bucky must've noticed the change in her mood, but he politely ignored it. "I'm glad you like them," he said with a small smile, turning his eyes back to the pan as he flipped over the pancake there. "They were my youngest sister's favorite. Got to the point where she refused to eat if anyone else tried to make pancakes for her. It was all very silly, really, but that was how she was. She was… eleven, I think, the last time I saw her."

"What was her name?" Ellie asked curiously before stuffing another massive bite of pancake into her mouth.

Bucky answered without a thought, "Rosemary." As soon as the name left his mouth, he stiffened, nearly dropping the pancake he was flipping on the stove. The pancake just barely went into the pan, and then he said quietly, "I didn't think I could remember any of their names anymore."

A hint of a smile found its way onto Ellie's lips as she ate. "Glad I could help a little," she said lightly, trying her best not to make the situation awkward.

Bucky continued to make pancakes until he ran out of batter, piling them on Ellie's plate even as she ate, and she slathered each new one with butter before continuing to eat. When he was finally done with the cooking, he took the plate away from her, and she followed after him, surprised to find yet another clean fork in his hand (seriously, how was he managing to sneakily clean all these random dishes without her noticing? She was beginning to feel incredibly unobservant). They sat at her tiny card table next to each other as Bucky began to eat as well, and they shared the stack of pancakes until the plate was mysteriously empty. Ellie had eaten so much that it was starting to make her feel a little sick to her stomach, but she decided it was worth it as Bucky watched her with keen, attentive eyes. Finally breaking the silence, Bucky said, "I've got a proposition for you. Keep in mind that you're more than welcome to turn it down, and I won't hold it against you, but I thought it might work out much better for both of us than if we continue on how we are." Tilting her head, Ellie watched him inquisitively as he went on, seeming a bit nervous, "Well, you've got an apartment, but you're struggling with food and cleaning, and I'm sorry, but that cat's litter box…"

"Is it really that noticeably bad?" Ellie asked, scrunching up her face, feeling ashamed for not taking better care of the large black cat. The cat, Saphira, had shown up in her hallway one day as she'd been coming home from work, and feeling sorry for the poor creature, she'd brought her inside her apartment, immediately gone to the nearest pet store, bought all the necessary supplies for a cat, and then proceeded to make the cat hers. The only thing she struggled with, having never owned a cat before, was remembering to keep the litter box clean, and every time she noticed how bad it was she felt horribly, deeply guilty over the state of it and declared herself an unfit cat mother.

Bucky nodded solemnly. "Yes, but here's the thing. I've got nowhere to live, but I'm pretty good at all this stuff. The cooking, the cleaning, the litter boxes…"

"What's your point?" Ellie asked suspiciously.

Bucky said, crossing his arms over his large, muscular chest, "Well, what if we tried living here together? I could sleep on the couch and make sure you get fed and everything stays clean and all, and you could make sure I've got a place to live. It's a win-win."

Ellie's eyes widened at the idea. On the one hand, the offer of not having to be alone anymore was incredibly appealing, particularly with the additions of him cooking and cleaning for her, as she struggled very hard to get any of these things done. On the other hand, she didn't actually know this man, who seemed to be several years older than her and had an unquestionably dangerous side and memory issues. "A trial?" she suggested. "Maybe we could see how it goes for a week or two, and see if it sticks?"

Bucky breathed a small sigh of relief. "Sure. Sounds good."

After a few minutes of silence, Ellie said awkwardly, "Thank you, by the way. For the pancakes. I didn't even know I had the stuff to make them, so… thanks."

"You're welcome," Bucky said quietly. "Thanks for giving me a place to stay. I could really use it."

"Yeah, well, winter's coming," Ellie said, shrugging her shoulders to give him the impression of nonchalance, even though it was a huge deal to her to allow him to stay, having never lived with a man other than her dad. "I couldn't exactly say no knowing you'd probably be out there on the streets freezing to death."

Bucky snorted, the sudden upturn in his mood making Ellie jump slightly. "Yeah, well, I couldn't exactly leave you and this cat here all on your own either," Bucky said, and Ellie could swear he was teasing her. "The two of you clearly can't take care of yourselves."

Ellie huffed at that, then glanced at the clock on her nightstand across the apartment. It was almost one in the morning, so with a roll of her eyes, she stood from the table and went to her bed, pulling a pajama shirt and some pants out from where they had been lying tangled in the blankets. Without a word, she slipped off into the cramped bathroom, quickly changing clothes. When she reentered the main room of the apartment, she found Bucky sitting on the couch, still completely dressed, with shoes and gloves still on his feet and hands. "You can take those off, you know," Ellie teased. "It's not that incredibly cold in here."

Bucky frowned down at his hands, not moving. As Ellie went back to her closet and pulled a large, well-loved crocheted blanket down from a high shelf, Bucky said quietly, "I don't want to frighten you."

Ellie paused as the heavy blanket fell into her arms. "What do you mean?"

Bucky continued to stare at his hands, not meeting Ellie's questioning gaze. Ultimately, he mumbled, "I've got a prosthetic arm. It's rather… unique. I just don't want it to scare you. It's… it's rather gruesome."

Ellie frowned at that. "Bucky, you're not going to scare me off just because you've got a prosthetic arm. I mean, I know you barely know me, but goodness gracious, I'm not that shallow." Bucky nodded slowly. Ellie tossed the blanket to him from beside the bed, and he caught it easily. He took off first one glove bit by bit, then the other, running his hands over the softness of the blanket. Ellie's eyes were immediately captured by the silver metal left hand sticking out from under his jacket. Its slow, deliberate motions over the blanket mirrored his human hand's movements perfectly to the smallest detail, as though he had total control over it just as he did the other. Ellie was completely amazed by the technology, but she tore her eyes away from it anyway, her gaze recaptured by his eyes as they watched her, filled with pain from some memory she couldn't begin to imagine and fear of rejection. In an effort to ease his concerns, she said, "I made that blanket when I was ten. My grandma taught me to crochet, and that was the first project I managed to complete. I worked on it obsessively for six months every day after school and all day most Saturdays. My grandma did the first several rows as she taught me, but it's huge cause I made it for my dad, so it should do the trick for you."

Bucky seemed to relax a little, taking the offer of a blanket that was clearly precious to Ellie as a sign of trust, and he slumped back against the couch with it as Ellie crawled onto the bed, burying herself under her own blankets that were all homemade as well. "Thank you," he muttered.

"You're welcome," Ellie replied, before realizing she'd forgotten to turn off the lights in the kitchen and over the bed. She got back out of bed, turning off first the kitchen light, then the main one. She couldn't see her way to the bed anymore, though, and she tripped over Bucky's backpack trying to pass the couch to get back in bed. Something hard caught her around the waist tightly, stopping her halfway to the floor, and when she looked up, she realized the something was Bucky's metal arm, as he was now standing mere inches from her. As her eyes finally began to adjust to the darkness, she saw his eyes wide with alarm staring down at her as he righted her on her feet. "I'm ok," she whispered. "Thank you."

Bucky's perceptive gaze raked her body, checking for injuries. When he was satisfied that she wasn't hurt, he let her go, quickly backing away from her as he whispered back, "You're welcome."

Bucky sat back down on the couch as Ellie scrambled back onto the foot of the bed. She crawled up to her pillow and under the blankets again, reaching over to the laptop on her nightstand and flipping it open. The bright light of the computer filled the room, and as she turned the backlight down, Bucky asked, "What the hell is that?"

Ellie raised an eyebrow at him. "My laptop. I was going to put on Netflix while I went to sleep."

"What the hell is Netflix? Or a laptop?"

Ellie chuckled, "What, are you from the past? Netflix? Laptops? Smartphones? I mean, I know they've only really become a major thing in the last few years, but still, dude. Come on." When Bucky only shrugged, Ellie sighed. "Netflix is a streaming service for movies and TV shows."

"What? Don't you have to go to the movie theater to see films anymore?"

Ellie groaned. "Oh my word. Ok, come here." When Bucky hesitated, Ellie patted the bed next to her. "Really, come here." Bucky slowly stood and, bringing the blanket with him, and joined her on the bed. Ellie was acutely aware of his proximity and ignored the goosebumps it caused on her skin in favor of pulling her laptop off the nightstand and showing him the screen, where Netflix was pulled up. "See, you just scroll through the different genres and stuff, and pick out whatever you want to watch, and it plays."

Bucky stared in awe at the computer screen. "How do you scroll?" Ellie showed him how to use the touchpad, and he scrolled slowly through her list in awe, mouth hanging open in amazement. He stopped on the _Office_ and asked, "What is this?"

"It's a comedy show," Ellie explained patiently. "It's incredibly popular. Have you really never heard of it?" Bucky shook his head as Saphira jumped on the bed by Bucky's feet. He jumped and shoved a hand in his jacket pocket, but he relaxed when he saw it was just the cat again. Saphira glared unblinkingly at Bucky, making Ellie burst out laughing. Bucky raised an eyebrow at her, so Ellie gasped out, "Sorry, you're just in the spot where she normally sleeps, and she really looks like she hates you for it. It just cracked me up." Bucky grinned a little at that, then he leaned forward and offered Saphira his human hand. She sniffed at it, then she hissed, jumping off the bed and retreating to her previous hiding place under it, which only served to make Ellie laugh harder.

Sighing heavily, Bucky said determinedly, "I'm going to win that cat over one of these days. Anyway, this… The _Office_. I want to watch that." Ellie laughed softly, starting the show on season two since, as she explained to Bucky when she explained the premise of the show, season one was not very good compared to the rest of the show. Ellie settled the laptop between herself and Bucky, and as the show played through the episode, they eventually both laid down on the bed and got comfortable. Ellie yawned as the next episode started, Bucky's quiet laughter making her smile. Her eyelids began to grow heavy until suddenly she was asleep.

* * *

 **October 16, 2015**

Ellie woke up the next morning to a sweet smell filling the apartment. She groaned, rolling over, struggling against the power cord of her laptop where it was draped across her hips, glaring through half-awake eyes at her clock. She gasped when she realized it was ten in the morning and bolted upright, making herself dizzy. She wriggled out from under the blankets, ignoring the odd smells of sweet food and male deodorant as she rushed from the bed. She slammed into her closet door as she threw it open, and she stumbled into the closet, tearing her pajamas off and throwing on the nearest flannel and skinny jeans she could find. When Bucky called her name from the kitchen, Ellie shrieked, so startled by the sound of a man's voice in her apartment that she tripped pulling on her jeans and fell hard to the floor. She heard Bucky racing to help her and squeaked, "No, I'm ok! I'm ok! I just tripped and fell. Stay out!"

Ellie heard him stop, then a moment later Bucky's voice floated into the closet. "What's wrong? Are you sure you're ok?"

Groaning as she pulled on her jeans properly, Ellie grumbled, "Yes, I'm fine. My class started at nine this morning, and I'm so incredibly late! I must've forgotten to turn on my alarm last night. Why did you let me sleep so late?"

She stumbled out of the closet with her combat boots from the night before in her hands, nearly running straight into Bucky in the process. He caught her by the elbows easily, and she yanked herself free of his grasp causing her to practically fall onto the bed when she'd meant to only sit on it as she jerked her boots on her feet. Bucky said, "Ellie, doll, I had no idea you had somewhere to be this morning, or I would've woken you. And if you're already an hour late, then just don't worry about it, ok? It will be long over by the time you get there." Ellie stopped with one of her boots still unzipped, hesitating. Bucky added, "Besides, I've got breakfast ready for you, and you can't skip that. You can afford to play hooky one day, right?"

Ellie sighed heavily, then pulled her shoes back off. "All right, you win," she conceded, looking up to find Bucky watching her with a triumphant smirk. "Did you make more pancakes?" Ellie asked shyly as she took in his tight t-shirt and fitted jeans, his hair damp from when he must've showered while Ellie had been asleep.

"Nope," Bucky said, suppressing a chuckle. His metal hand caught her eyes again as he turned and headed off to the kitchen. Ellie was incredibly curious about how he ended up with a prosthetic arm, but she guessed the situation was incredibly traumatic, and between the trauma and the memory problems, she had the feeling that she didn't want to poke that bear — not yet at least. She slowly followed him over to the card table, surprised to find a spread of fresh fruit, jams, and crepes on the table. Ellie glanced over at the kitchen, completely shocked to see that all the dishes had been washed and put away, leaving the place totally spotless. "You're a fairly heavy sleeper, did you know that?" Bucky teased.

"Where did all this food come from?" Ellie asked in amazement.

Bucky shrugged. "Well, I couldn't sleep, so when I grew too restless to keep watching that — Netflix? — around 7 a.m. I ran out to the nearest market and got groceries. Also, there's coffee brewed in the coffee pot if you want it."

Ellie made a face at the mention of coffee. "While that's really sweet of you, I actually hate coffee."

Laughing, Bucky protested, "But you work in a café!"

Ellie pulled on the sleeves of her over-sized men's red and black flannel, replying, "Yeah, well, it pays the rent, but I think it's far too bitter. It smells all right, but I only drink the stuff when I'm so desperate to stay awake that falling asleep could literally get me killed."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Wow, that's some serious hatred," Bucky snickered. "Ok, I'll be sure to remember that from now on. You don't hate crepes though, right?"

Ellie smiled at him as she sat down to breakfast. "Right."

"Ok, good," Bucky said as he took the seat next to hers.

* * *

A couple hours later, Bucky and Ellie were laying on the bed again, hunkered down against the chilly morning under Ellie's blankets binge-watching the _Office_. Somehow Bucky's metal arm had ended up wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close to his side. She'd seen the utter shock and horror on his face when he'd first realized which arm he'd put around her, but then Ellie had chosen to ignore it, snuggling in closer to him and getting comfortable and continuing to work on her new crochet project. He'd gone rigid at the contact, as though it was the first time anyone had touched him like that since he'd gotten the new arm, which made Ellie sad for him, but she held it in, pretending that she hadn't noticed. The cool metal chilled her skin, but she disregarded the feeling, pulling the blanket tighter around her to fight the cold. After a few minutes, she'd felt his muscles relax.

Ellie leaned her head on his shoulder, surprised when she realized that she could feel a potential seam in his shoulder between the metal arm and his human flesh under his shirt, though she felt silly for not realizing it would exist before. Bucky suddenly asked, "Do you have a lot of experience with horses?" Ellie looked at him questioningly. "You said you wanted to be an equestrian therapist," he elaborated. "I was wondering if you were experienced enough with horses to do that, and what prompted that career choice."

Ellie's mouth formed a silent "Oh," at that. "Well, yeah, I do actually," she answered. "My dad was a rodeo cowboy when he was young before he met my mom. So he always loved horses, so when I was seven we moved to a small farm that had a couple acres of pasture land and a barn, so my dad bought horses for all three of us. It was great."

"Where are they now?"

"Who, the horses?"

"Yeah."

Ellie closed her eyes for a minute, fighting the sudden urge to cry. Then she opened them and answered quietly, "I inherited them and the farmhouse when my parents died, but… Things were tough, financially. I couldn't afford to keep them. I still have the house, but the barns are empty now. I had to sell all three of them because I couldn't afford to feed them, or even me, especially when my grandma cut me off from her…"

She felt Bucky's arm around her tighten, and only then did she realize that her entire body was trembling and sticky with sweat. "I'm sorry," he murmured gently, laying his cheek against the top of her head. "That must've been awful."

Ellie nodded, tears stinging her eyes. "It was almost like losing my parents all over again, letting go such a tangible, living, breathing connection to them like that. My dad's horse was really special, too. He taught him to do a few tricks from back in his rodeo days."

"Yeah?" Bucky pushed gently, and Ellie could tell he was trying to route her thoughts into happier memories. It was an easily seen-through tactic, but she allowed it to work anyway, if only temporarily.

"Yeah," Ellie mumbled, wiping her eyes with the back of one hand. "He'd count and do math and bow and rear on command, all sort of silly little things like that."

"That sounds like a very smart horse," Bucky said.

"He was," Ellie affirmed. "He was one of the best horses I've ever known. I miss him. Well, I miss Dad more."

Bucky's metal hand rubbed her arm, surprisingly tender given the unforgiving material from which it was made. "I miss my family, too," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "But I can tell you this, it gets easier to deal with over time. You still miss them, and there are still times where it hurts like hell, but it gets easier."

Ellie looked at Bucky, pushing her own pain aside to zero in on the source of his in a cold, clinical manner that helped her manage her own emotional distress. "What happened to your family, Bucky?"

Bucky closed his eyes tight for a minute as though he were thinking very hard about the answer, then he said, "My dad died when I was young of… cancer, I think? And, umm, I never found out for sure how my mom or sisters died, I just know that they're dead."

"That's awful," Ellie said sympathetically. He shrugged, clamming up again and returning his attention to the _Office_ on the computer screen in front of him. Ellie allowed him his space on the issue and turned her attention back to her crochet as he focused solely on the show.


	2. Chapter 2

_So hit me like a man and love me like a woman. Bury me alive; I can see it in your eyes — you want it. Some will give you pain; some will give you pleasure. Hit me like a man; love me like a woman. — Hit Me Like a Man, the Pretty Reckless_

* * *

 **October 23, 2015**

The next week went surprisingly smoothly. Ellie and Bucky began to develop an easy routine of Bucky getting up early and fixing a hot breakfast that they shared, then Ellie would run off to classes leaving Bucky to his own devices at the apartment, followed by Ellie's shifts at the café where Bucky would rejoin her, writing in and studying his notebooks as she crafted lattes. He would then help her close the café around nine and walk her home. They'd have a late dinner, and then they'd watch the _Office_ in bed on her laptop until they eventually fell asleep together, always ending up snuggled up against each other.

That night, however, the horrendously loud screech of metal jarred Ellie awake, her heart pounding and her mind screaming internally in terror, followed by the hissing of Saphira under Ellie's side of the bed. She sat up, looking around wildly for the source of the noise, until her eyes landed on Bucky, still lying in the bed next to her, his metal hand wrapped around one of the metal rods of the headboard, which was bent at an odd angle. He was tossing and turning as though he were trying to resist some force trying to hold him down, then he growled in Russian, his voice guttural and haunting, " _I knew him! Don't wipe me again. Don't – no, please, don't do this! Don't make me do this! Don't make me hurt him! I'll make you pay for this! I'll kill you all! I_ will _kill you_ all!" Ellie watched him writhe in wide-eyed terror, clueless what to do. The only thing she knew was that it was incredibly dangerous to wake a man — especially if that man has ever been in the military — when you know he's having a nightmare, and this seemed like one whopper of a nightmare. Suddenly, Bucky stopped moving, laying perfectly still and panting for breath, his grip on the iron bar of the headboard relaxing. Ellie breathed a small sigh of relief, hoping that his PTSD nightmare had ended, when suddenly his blue eyes snapped open, cold and hollow. " _Ready to comply. I will complete the mission._ "

Bucky's eyes landed on Ellie then, and before she could so much as blink, he had pounced on her like a lion, straddling her petite hips with his bulging thighs, his human fist around her neck and slamming her back down to the bed. She screamed, but then his hand tightened around her throat, and she squeaked, "Bucky, it's me! It's Ellie!"

Still mumbling in Russian, Ellie couldn't hear everything Bucky was muttering, but she did catch, " _Begging for your life won't make a fucking difference to me._ "

Gulping for air desperately, Ellie felt Bucky's hand squeezing her neck even harder, and she reached up as best she could, just barely able to reach his face. She brushed her fingers gently across his cheek, gasping in Russian, " _Don't hurt — me. I'm your – friend._ "

Something sparked in Bucky's dead eyes suddenly, and he seemed to come to himself. He released his hold on her throat and rolled off Ellie, collapsing onto his back, bordering on hyperventilating. Ellie started coughing and rolled onto her side, toward Bucky, struggling to get enough air to stop feeling like she was drowning but unable to stop the coughing that was preventing her from breathing her own saliva. "Where am I? Who-who are you? Who-who-who am I? Oh, God, what've I done?" Bucky moaned.

Ellie gasped for air, violent tremors ripping through her body. She could still see bright white stars dancing across her vision. "Bucky," she breathed.

Bucky reacted almost immediately, forcing himself to sit up and moving back over to Ellie. "Ellie," he practically whimpered. He took a gentle hold of Ellie's shoulders and forced her to sit upright as she continued the painful alternations between coughing and gasping, flinching and weakly attempting to resist his pull when he touched her. "I am so fucking sorry," Bucky mumbled quietly. "I had no idea what I was doing, I'm so sorry…"

"What —" Ellie stopped to suck in air. "The hell?" she finished, staring at Bucky with wide, terrified gray eyes.

Bucky shook his head. "I should just go," he decided suddenly as Ellie's breathing began to level out again. "I should just leave your life. I shouldn't have tried to be part of this little world of yours, and I'm so sorry I just barged up in here like this. I never meant to hurt you. I'm so sorry…"

As Bucky jumped out of bed and tried to run away, Ellie called after him, "Bucky whatever-the-hell-your-last-name-is, you can't just go like that. No way in hell."

Bucky stopped, staying standing with his back to her, unwilling to meet her fierce glare. "Fine," he said, his voice low and strained.

"What the actual hell was all that?" Ellie demanded. "I don't like to press into the traumatic events in people's pasts before they're ready to open up, but holy shit, yours nearly killed me, so I think I've earned the right to know now."

Bucky sighed, then slowly sat back down on the bed next to her legs. He said quietly, "I can't just come out and tell you my entire history, Ellie. I get what you're looking for here, but I still can't tell you the details, ok?" Ellie sighed then nodded, so Bucky went on. "I was a POW for an incredibly long time, and during that time… the Russians drugged me over and over, brainwashing me. They turned me into an assassin for them. That's why I have memory problems. I only escaped them and their machines less than a year ago."

"Oh my God…" Ellie breathed, torn between trying to comfort the man who, other than that night, had been nothing but sweet and kind, and being completely terrified of the apparent Russian assassin whom she had been so easily taken in by and allowed to sleep in her bed without even a second thought.

Bucky finally looked at her with pleading, desperate eyes. "That's not who I am, though. I'm not… They kept wiping my memory and using drugs and machinery to control my mind. I couldn't even remember who I was… I never wanted to do any of it. I wasn't a person anymore, just a killing machine. And now… Now my brain is such a scrambled mess from it I can't even tell which memories are real and which aren't." He took a quick ragged breath. "And now, I should really leave. I'm putting you in danger just being here with you, and that's not fair to you, so I should just go."

Bucky stood to leave again, but Ellie exclaimed impulsively, "Wait!" He froze as he reached for his backpack on the floor. At first, she didn't say anything, unsure what to say. He was right, of course. He was incredibly dangerous to be around, and she still had so many questions about his past. However, an incredibly selfish part of her refused to let him go anywhere. Bucky had been doing an excellent job of taking care of her, and she didn't want to give that up. Not to mention the way that his presence in her life had eased the horrible stinging loneliness that had been haunting her since her parents had died, and that was something else she wasn't sure she could allow him to take away. He looked at her with questioning eyes, so she mumbled, "I want you to stay."

Bucky looked at Ellie as if she had lost her mind, and she thought maybe he was right. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not."

"There are all sorts of government agencies still trying to capture me," Bucky warned. "It's incredibly dangerous to be around me long-term."

"I'm only in Romania through the end of the year," Ellie said quietly. "And I don't exactly have any plans for after that other than just school, so I mean, we could always… go somewhere safe."

Bucky dropped onto the bed, dumbfounded. "Are you serious?"

Ellie nodded. "Yes, but just… just don't screw it all up, ok? I mean, I want you around, but I don't totally trust you yet, so just… don't screw it up." Bucky nodded vigorously, and Ellie sighed. "Now, how about you lay back down, and we'll put Netflix on again, ok? Maybe it'll help us go back to sleep." Bucky nodded again, crawling back onto the bed while still maintaining a careful distance from Ellie as she woke up her laptop and found _The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh_ on Netflix, another of many shows and movies on the streaming platform that Bucky seemed to have never heard of in his life. They settled down again, laptop between them, watching the soothing Disney movie until, eventually, they both passed into a fitful sleep.

* * *

 **October 24, 2015**

When Ellie woke up the next morning, she didn't think she'd ever been so grateful for a Saturday in her life. Her head screamed in protest against the bright lights of the late morning, a migraine developing from her lack of sleep. Bucky had been asleep by the end of _Winnie the Pooh_ , but Ellie couldn't shake the fear of the man in the bed next to her that had permeated her veins, so she'd put on _Psych_ , unable to fall asleep until sometime during the second episode, so she'd gotten very little sleep, and what sleep she'd had was incredibly light and uneasy as Bucky guest starred in her dreams as the murderer Yin from _Psych_ , and she was his next victim. She could smell smoked bacon, and while it smelled delicious, the scent also made her feel sick to her already-knotted stomach. She sat up very slowly, her hands trembling and her neck aching horribly. Ellie accidentally made eye contact with Bucky, who sat on the couch across from the bed looking like he was mentally torturing himself for hurting her. He stared hard at her neck, biting his lip, his blue eyes filled with self-loathing and guilt. Not addressing the previous night, she slowly stood up, purposely on the side of the bed closest to the bathroom and furthest from Bucky, mumbling, "I need a shower."

Ellie slipped into the bathroom when Bucky didn't react, only continuing to stare at her. She took a deep breath, staring at her neck in the mirror and the large, ugly, purple, hand-shaped bruises around her throat. Sighing, she set the most soothing song she could think of playing from her Spotify account on her phone — _One for my Baby_ by Frank Sinatra — then she turned on the hot water and jumped in the shower. She sang with her playlist of her favorite 1940s songs as she showered, trying to force herself to feel better and failing, then she ultimately fell silent. She stayed in the shower until the water turned cold as ice, then she turned the water off and grabbed her towel to dry herself off, only to realize that she'd forgotten to bring any clean clothes in with her. Normally, that wouldn't be an issue, but now that Bucky was around… She sighed in annoyance, then turned the music off on her phone and called, her voice higher and thinner than she'd expected, "Hey, Bucky?"

"Yeah?"

"Umm, I sort of forgot my clothes," Ellie said, her stomach churning with anxiety. "Would you mind…?"

There was a moment of silence, then Bucky's voice was closer to the bathroom door. "Yeah, sure. What did you want?"

Ellie answered quickly, "Anything, as long as it's clean."

Sounds of shuffling came from the other side of the bathroom door as Ellie wrapped her towel around herself. A moment later, there was a soft knock on the bathroom door, and Ellie opened it just enough for her to see Bucky on the other side holding her favorite jeans and her Mickey Mouse t-shirt. He frowned when he saw her and muttered, "They got worse under the hot water." Brows furrowing in confusion, Ellie glanced back at the mirror to see what he meant. He was right; the intense bruising around her neck had turned a darker shade of purple, and around the edges of the bruises were awful red splotches. "I'm so sorry," Bucky said quietly, drawing her eyes back to him. "I really should just leave here."

"No. I don't want to go back to being alone," Ellie said, her voice a little raspy from her sore throat. She took the clothes from his hands and quickly shut the door on him, leaving her alone in the bathroom to change clothes. When she was dressed, she towel-dried her hair one more time for good measure, then she walked out, surprised to find Bucky on her laptop. For a moment she expected he was just watching Netflix, but the deadly silence of the room told her otherwise. After a moment's hesitation, Ellie crossed the room and sat down next to Bucky on the couch, looking over his shoulder. He didn't seem to notice her as he continued to scroll through article after article about Captain America. "Is he your favorite Avenger then?" Ellie asked, and Bucky started at her voice.

Bucky snorted at that. "I've just been reading up on the whole Avengers thing. It's… He's… He's really become something else, hasn't he?"

"Become?" Ellie probed. "What was he before?"

Bucky scoffed. "A stupid little punk, that's what."

"Huh?"

Bucky shook his head, closing the internet browser. "Nevermind. It's nothing."

"Do you actually know Captain America?" Ellie pressed, more curious about this man's past than ever.

Bucky sighed heavily. "Yeah, you could say that." He shut the laptop firmly, bringing the conversation to a grinding halt. He glanced over at her, shamefaced, and asked, "Do you really want me to stick around after last night?"

Ellie nodded. "Yes, if for no other reason than I think it would be safer for us to stick together than to not." Bucky raised an eyebrow at that, but Ellie shrugged, trying to look more casual about it than she felt.

"You're lying about the reason," Bucky said knowingly.

Ellie bit her lip, then she said quietly, "Yes, I am. But does it really matter?"

"It does to me," Bucky replied.

Groaning in annoyance, Ellie admitted, "All right, all right. Aside from the fact that it's been incredibly nice having you here the last week and I truly just don't want to be alone again, my biological dad was a Russian scientist working for the government. And then last night, you told me that you were tortured, drugged, and experimented on by Russian scientists until you became a mindless Russian assassin under their total control. I just… I never knew the man who was my father, but he was probably one of the ones who did that to you, and that's my blood. I owe you the safe home that my father denied you."

Bucky stared at her completely dumbfounded as Ellie pulled her damp strawberry blonde hair into a ponytail, trying her best to force her cheeks and eyes to stop burning. "You don't owe me anything," Bucky said coolly. "We don't even know for a fact that one of the scientists was your father, but even if we did, you wouldn't owe me anything."

"Bucky, I want you here," Ellie repeated. "I like having you around. Even if it wasn't my father, I still want to see you safe and happy, ok? I mean, you escaped them because you didn't want to do that stuff anymore, right?" Bucky nodded slowly, still frowning. "Then shut up and quit arguing with me, you jerk, and just stay with me, ok?"

Bucky sighed, then nodded sharply, grabbing his backpack off the floor by the couch and standing. "I think I need a shower, too," he said lowly, stalking off toward the closed bathroom door.

"Uhh, you might want to wait a while?" Ellie suggested. "I sort of used all the hot water. It'll feel like ice."

"Don't care," Bucky called over his shoulder without bothering to turn around, slamming the bathroom door shut behind him. Ellie shivered, then took her laptop and opened it, looking curiously at the browser history. According to her history, Bucky had not only been researching Captain America, but the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. as a whole, with a particular focus on Captain America, Iron Man, and Black Widow. She was curious what exactly he was searching for, but when she heard the shower water cut off five minutes later, she redirected her computer to Netflix, turning on a half-watched episode of _Parks and Recreation_ to hide her curiosity.

* * *

 **October 26, 2015**

Two days later, and Ellie was still rattled by seeing the darker side of Bucky. She hadn't noticed how damn quietly he moved until he'd attacked her. Ever since, he was constantly walking up behind her, sneaking up on her, startling her. She'd jump and swear every time, and in a couple instances, she'd dropped things, shattering the glass. The hurt and longing were visible in his eyes every time she looked at him, but he was restraining himself, distancing himself from her more with every time he accidentally frightened her. She could tell he was. Ellie hated it, but she wasn't entirely sure if she hated it enough to tell him to stop it. They were still in their trial period as roommates after all, and he was already back to sleeping on the couch at night. It left Ellie colder and lonelier in the darkness, but she hadn't said a word about it, unwilling to breach that barrier.

That afternoon, Ellie had just delivered a caramel macchiato to a table in the café when she'd turned around and almost crashed into Bucky's broad chest. She gasped, completely unprepared to see him, as he caught her elbows to steady her on her feet. When she was stable again, Ellie hissed, harsher than she'd meant to be, "Bucky! What are you doing here?"

Bucky's face immediately fell, and Ellie inwardly cringed, wishing she could take the words back, but of course, it was too late. Bucky mumbled, "I, uhh, I was just hoping I could hang around here while you worked today. I could use the time out of the apartment. I – I was getting a little… stir-crazy."

Ellie's gaze softened at his words, so full of his fear of rejection. "Sure," Ellie said, exhaling heavily. "Hang out here. It's fine."

Bucky let out a breath he'd been holding when she'd agreed with him. "Thanks," he said softly, letting go of her elbows.

Ellie brushed past Bucky to go back behind to the register as Bucky sat down on a barstool by the espresso bar, watching her attentively, completely ignoring the dark-haired girl operating the espresso machine. His intense gaze made Ellie's nerves rocket even more, but she offered him a small smile anyway, trying to get him to relax so that she could relax more herself. His eyes brightened, and he returned the smile, not much, just enough for her to notice. Ellie breathed a small sigh of relief at that expression, but it was soon taken away as the next customer approached her — a forty-something-year-old man who looked like he hadn't showered in a few days. He leaned in far too close for Ellie's comfort as he ordered, his breath stinking of Romanian sausages, forcing Ellie to take a step back from the register. " _I would like a latte. A latte with lots of sugar from you, my dear,_ " he said with a wink that made Ellie's stomach twist in a mix of anger and revulsion.

Without a word, Ellie charged the man, passing his order to Alondra, the girl who was the current barista. Since she didn't have any other customers, she hovered by Alondra unable to avoid the older man's unnerving gaze as the two girls whispered back and forth in Romanian about him, arguing over who was going to deliver the drink to his table. By the time Alondra had crafted the rosette of foam on the top of the drink, Ellie had conceded defeat and took the mug over to where the man sat at the table behind Bucky. She ignored the agitated look on Bucky's face that clearly said he'd overheard her conversation with Alondra and put on her best be-nice-to-the-customers face. She set the mug down on the table in front of the balding man as she said in Romanian, " _Your order, sir._ "

Ellie turned to walk away, but the man snatched her wrist in his large, meaty hand. Ellie's head snapped back around, eyes wide with a mix of anger and fear. " _Sir does sound so delicious from your pretty little mouth, but I would really prefer it if you called me daddy,_ " he said, his mouth twisting into a grin that Ellie wanted to slap off his face.

Instead, Ellie said, her voice low and surprisingly steady, " _Please let go of me._ "

" _I have a better idea,_ " the creep said as Ellie subtly, but unsuccessfully, tried to pull her arm free of his sweaty grip. Suddenly, he yanked her close, and Ellie felt the cold unrelenting steel of a knife through her shirt against her ribcage. She held in a gasp as he continued, " _How about instead we head back to my place and have some fun? I would hate if something were to happen to that gorgeous face of yours, princess._ "

Heart racing, Ellie struggled to swallow her terror and not think about what sort of fun this man had in mind. Obviously, she didn't want to go anywhere with him. Bucky was sitting just a few feet away, and he could easily take this guy down. But his back was to her, and the creepy guy's voice had been so quiet and unthreatening in tone, Ellie doubted he could've heard it. She was clueless how to alert him that she needed help without getting herself stabbed. Before she could formulate a plan, the knife pressed harder against her ribcage, just enough for the point of the blade to poke through her thin work shirt and penetrate her skin enough to really sting. She did gasp then, unable to control the response.

A panicked, maniacal giggle clawed its way out of Ellie's throat as she stepped back from him, allowing the man to stand and force her to lead him out of the café. Her brain refused to process the reality of what was happening to her. She glanced desperately to her left as she passed Bucky's seat, praying that he'd somehow save her, but before she could locate him, she felt a sharp tug on her wrist as it was freed from the man's clutches, the knife falling from her waist immediately. She spun around, and before she could blink, Bucky had the man sprawled on his beer-belly on the floor, head yanked up by what hair was still on his head and the creep's own knife pressed hard enough against his throat to draw blood as Bucky kneeled next to him. Ellie's jaw dropped in astonishment as Bucky leaned down and whispered in the man's ear in Romanian, " _I do not ever want to see you anywhere near this place or the girls who work here again, understand? If I do, I won't hesitate to kill you on sight. Understand?_ "

The man's pathetic whine was taken for agreement, and Bucky allowed him to stand, then removed the knife from his neck. As soon as he regained his sense, he ran out the door with only a fleeting glance back at the former assassin who'd just held his life in his hands. When he was gone, Bucky immediately spun around, approaching Ellie so quickly that it left her dizzy. "Thank you," Ellie breathed.

" _We're going home. Now,_ " Bucky said in Russian, his voice emotionless but his eyes betraying the anger stirring within. Turning to Alondra, he switched back to Romanian and ordered, " _Ellie is going home immediately. She is unwell. The café is slow; you can handle it by yourself._ "

Alondra nodded, too afraid to argue, her hazel eyes wide with alarm. Ellie tried to reason with Bucky as he grabbed his notebooks and shoved them into his backpack. "Really, I'm fine. I don't need to go home. I can work; I'm ok."

" _You're shaking. You're bleeding. You're in shock,_ " Bucky retorted in Russian. He continued as he pushed Ellie out the front door, " _You're not in control of yourself right now. You're coming home so that I can take care of you._ "

Ellie, unable to get her point across in English, insisted in Russian the whole way home, " _Bucky, I'm ok. Really, I'm ok. It's just a little scratch._ "

Even as Bucky practically shoved Ellie through the open door of their apartment and shut it behind them, Ellie continued to tell him she was fine. "Then why can't you look me in the eye, damn it?" Bucky demanded furiously, stunning Ellie into silence. In that moment, Ellie did look Bucky square in the eyes for the first time since taking that man's order, and something inside her chest snapped. Waves of horror washed over her, and she fell apart. Bucky's arms gently surrounded her, and the next thing she knew his arms were the only thing keeping her upright. She slumped exhaustedly into his chest as she gasped for air, her gasps quickly turning into ragged sobs. Bucky took the opportunity to allow his hands to wander, first to her side where a small rust-red blood stain had blossomed on the side of her light gray button-down, then to the rest of her upper body, inspecting her thoroughly for any other wounds. Finding none, Bucky eased Ellie down to sit on the bed. Rather than allowing her time to process her emotions first, Bucky said quickly, "Take off your shirt; I need to see where you're hurt."

Panic flickered through Ellie's stormy eyes, his words hitting her so hard that they actually forced her to stop crying. "What?"

Bucky removed his arms from around Ellie, waving his hands for her to hurry up. "I need to inspect your wound, clean it, bandage it, stitch you up if necessary. Take your shirt off."

He was insane. Ellie knew that Bucky must be completely insane to be asking her to do something like that. Take her shirt off for him? He was an assassin, not a doctor, and he barely knew her. He had no right to demand that of her, especially not after someone had just threatened her at knifepoint in an attempt to get her alone to rape her.

But Ellie also knew that Bucky was no random stranger. She also knew that if he was both a soldier and an assassin, then that meant he most likely knew more than most people about first aid and had practiced the skill on himself and others more than a few times. She was certain he hadn't meant for there to be, but there was a silent question inside of the one he'd really asked her that she could hear echoing around in her stunned brain. _Do you trust me?_ The question that the rest of their relationship would ultimately hinge on. A split-second later, and her mind was made up. Ellie slowly, carefully, reached up and began unbuttoning her shirt, working her way from the top down. Soon, her black lace bra was revealed, then her ribs, and then her torso was totally exposed as she slowly shrugged the shirt off her shoulders, her eyes never leaving Bucky's the entire time. Ellie was pleasantly surprised when he ignored her chest entirely, focusing all of his energy on the small stab wound just below her bra on her left side. His fingers carefully prodded at the wound, and she hissed at the pressure. In that strangely intimate moment, Ellie became more certain of one thing than she had been of anything else in her life — she was never going to leave Bucky. She had no doubts that he would continue to put her through absolute hell as he continued to recover from the trauma of his past, but she didn't care anymore. She was going to be a therapist; what good would becoming one do if she couldn't help her favorite people through their toughest moments?

After a few seconds of assessment, Bucky dove into his backpack, quickly pulling out the same first aid kit he'd used to help her the day they'd met. He poured a little of the rubbing alcohol onto a fresh washcloth, reminding her, "This will sting a little, but it won't be as bad as last time. This wound is much more shallow." Ellie nodded, biting her lip as she braced herself, and then he pressed the cold wet cloth to her side. A shiver ran down her spine at the biting cold, and then it was over, and Bucky was pasting a Band-Aid over the incision. "There," he said, his voice low and soothing. "All better." Ellie breathed a small sigh of relief as Bucky brushed his thumb several times across her bandaged ribs, his hand so much larger than hers that it practically swallowed her ribcage in its grasp. His touch was different from the man in the café's though. Whereas her assailant's grip had been sweaty and grimy and terrifying, Bucky's hold on her waist was calm and steady and reassuring. It should have shocked Ellie more than it did that the same hand that had nearly choked the life out of her a mere two nights ago was now the hand that was making her feel like she had never been safer anywhere in her life, but it didn't. Maybe it had something to do with the shock of the attack. Or maybe it was just something in the way that Bucky's eyes looked up at her, silently pleading for her to redeem him. Or maybe it was just the way that look made her breath hitch in her throat and her lips long to connect with his. Or some strange mix of all three.

Then Ellie shattered whatever spell he'd cast over her by grabbing a loose t-shirt off the bed, not caring that it was Bucky's as she tossed the too-big red shirt over her head. "Thank you," she whispered, scooting back from him and breaking his contact with the skin of her waist as she quickly retrieved her laptop from the nightstand. The air seemed to rush from Bucky's lungs all at once as he mumbled a short response back, and a minute later he was making hot chocolate for them as Ellie started _The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh_ once again, her all-time favorite Disney movie and the most calming thing she could think of at the time to take the edge off her nerves. As Bucky settled onto the bed next to her, she didn't cozy up to him, instead taking her drink from her with a soft thanks, focusing her attention entirely on the movie. He didn't seem to mind watching it again, and soon the tension had left the room altogether, leaving Ellie to contemplate in silence what exact smells made up the delightful scent that was uniquely Bucky that still lingered on the stolen shirt she wore.

* * *

 **October 29, 2015**

The harsh, screeching jolt of metal slamming against metal. The tinkle of shattering glass. Screaming. The bruising constriction of the seat belt across her hips and chest. All control lost. The car flipping once, twice, three times. Stopping sideways against a tree on the side of the interstate. The metallic taste of blood. The smell of smoke. Large, rough hands gripping her under her arms and yanking her painfully free of the car. Her ears ringing. The bright flames licking the car engine burning too bright against her eyes in the dark of the night.

Ellie was dropped to the cold, hard ground suddenly, and she looked up to see his dead blue eyes staring down at her. The lower half of his face was covered with a black mask, but she would recognize Bucky's beautiful blue eyes anywhere. His metal arm was completely exposed, a brilliant red star shining on his shoulder. Her father's shouts filled the air, demanding the strange man get away from his little girl. Ellie's eyes landed on her parents in the front seat of the sedan, her father barely cognizant behind the wheel and her mother unconscious in the passenger seat, the flames singeing her long dark hair. "Bucky," Ellie pleaded, panicking. "Help them, please! You've got to help them!"

Stalking over to the car, Bucky ignored Ellie's cries and, using his metal arm, punched her father in the face, smashing it to the point it was unrecognizable. Ellie screamed, sobbing and pleading uselessly as Bucky then did the same to her mother. He turned back to her, eyes cold and unyielding as another car pulled up next to the wreckage. Horrified, Ellie scrambled to her feet, ignoring her dizziness and taking off running the other direction in a bid for escape from this insane murderer with painfully familiar eyes. Bucky moved faster than Ellie could believe, catching her easily by her hair and her upper arm, then throwing her in the back of the car as she screamed and begged for him to let her go. She could hear Bucky ordering the driver in Russian to get them the hell out of there as he climbed in behind her and slammed the door shut, and the SUV's tires squealed when they hit the interstate again. Ellie kicked and screamed as Bucky tried to hold her down, struggling to buckle her into the seat. She ripped his mask off his face, screeching his name over and over trying to get through to him, but nothing reached him. Then suddenly he was speaking English instead of Russian, saying, "Easy there, doll. Wake up; you've got to wake up."

Ellie's gray eyes snapped open as she gasped for air, struggling against a pair of hands around her tiny wrists. She screamed as she realized that someone was still trying to hold her down, and she kicked out, making contact with something solid, but the use of force was ignored. She was pulled upright, then made eye contact with Bucky's blue eyes in the darkness, no longer empty but now filled with worry. "Shh — No, don't panic, doll," he said soothingly. "Easy there. You're safe now. It's only me. You're safe."

Ellie whimpered, "It was so real. You were there — it was all so real."

"But it wasn't real," Bucky reassured her. "It was just one of hell of a nightmare, but you're safe here with me." Ellie whined softly, so Bucky slowly pulled her to him, and she hugged him as tightly as she could around his waist, clinging to him as if her life depended on it as she lost the battle against the massive tears welling in her eyes. After a few minutes of Ellie sobbing into Bucky's t-shirt, he begged, "Talk to me about it, doll." When Ellie shook her head, Bucky gently stroking her hair, he pressed, "Please, tell me about it. If you tell me, it'll go away. That's what my mom always told me, and it's never failed me. At least, not when I've actually had someone to talk to about it."

Ellie sniffed, "I dreamed about the car crash with my parents. Except, it wasn't the crash that killed them. It was you, or some twisted version of you at least. You pulled me from the car, and you murdered my parents, and then you and some Russian guys took me away, and – and – I woke up, but I feel like I dreamed more of it than that – I just can't remember…" Ellie swallowed hard, still struggling to breathe. "It was so vivid. It felt so real."

Bucky's hands tensed for a moment as he rubbed her shoulders soothingly, then continued on as if nothing had happened. "It's ok, Ellie. Just remember, it wasn't real. That's the important part. No matter how real it felt, it wasn't real."

"Your eyes," Ellie mumbled, clutching him so hard that her fingernails dug into his back through his shirt. "So cold, so focused… You didn't even flinch at the screaming… Like when you had that nightmare…"

Bucky was silent for a few seconds, then said quietly, "It was just a nightmare. Your brain is just feeding on memories and twisting things around to make them that much more terrifying."

"I can't stop seeing it," Ellie whimpered, burying her face in his chest as the images flashed through her mind over and over, the scene growing more vivid and detailed with every replay.

"I know, doll," Bucky repeated. "But it was not real." Ellie nodded slowly as she failed to regain control over her ragged breath. "Just breathe in and out, nice and slow." When Ellie couldn't manage that on her own, Bucky pulled her away from his chest and placed one hand on her back and one on her diaphragm, giving her detailed instructions on how to breathe and using his hands to guide her. He counted the seconds she held her breath in and the seconds she breathed it out until she was finally able to calm enough to breathe steadily on her own. "Do you want to go back to sleep?"

Ellie shook her head frantically, her heart jumping back up to her throat. "No! No more sleep. I don't ever want to go to sleep again."

"Ok," Bucky said, his voice low and gentle. "You don't have to sleep right now. You want me to make you some tea? Or maybe you'd want to take a shower; you're absolutely soaked in sweat."

"I don't want to be alone," Ellie whispered.

"You're not alone. I'm here. I'll protect you. I'll always be here."

"Promise?" Ellie pleaded softly.

Bucky hesitated a moment, then said solemnly, "I promise, Ellie. I'm with you til the end of the line." Ellie accepted his word with a jerky nod. "What do you want to do if you won't sleep? Tea? Shower? Netflix?"

Ellie weighed her options for a minute. "Netflix. _'Allo 'Allo_?"

Bucky smiled slightly. "I have absolutely no idea what that is, but sure, of course, we can watch it." He reached around Ellie and pulled her laptop over, played the first episode of the show she wanted, then set it back down on the nightstand. He pulled her to his chest again, and she snuggled closer to him as she silently wondered how a former Russian assassin could be so kind and tender and caring. By then, though, he was laughing hard at the show on the computer, and she couldn't help but smile at the sound. She wasn't sure if she'd made it through three or four episodes of _'Allo 'Allo,_ but eventually, she'd passed out, unable to stay awake a minute longer.

* * *

 **October 30, 2015**

Ellie woke the next morning from a dreamless sleep, dreading going to class after the horrible night's sleep she'd had. She pulled the blankets closer around her cold form as a charming baritone floated in her ears, singing, "Be careful, it's my heart. It's not my watch you're holding; it's my heart." Ellie felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth at the sound as she sat up and her eyes found Bucky's back in the kitchen. He was standing in front of the stove, alternating between humming and singing, "It's not the note that I sent you that you quickly burn. It's not a book that I lent you that you never return. Remember, it's my heart."

Ellie folded her arms on top of her knees and laid her head on her arms, grinning at the man singing in her kitchen as he flipped a pancake. The past week, as horrible as it was, seemed to have done some good for Ellie, as this morning she found herself no longer the least bit afraid of the former assassin as she had been after he'd had his nightmare. Rather than posing a potential unstoppable threat, Bucky had become her defender, her hero, her savior. Ellie could see the difference much more clearly now between the brainwashed assassin he'd been forced to become and the man she was actually living with. They were nothing alike.

Bucky glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw she was watching him. He immediately stopped the humming and the singing. "Hey," he said cautiously. "How you feeling this morning?"

"Better," Ellie answered, her spirits lifted a bit. "Don't stop singing now. I liked that."

Bucky grinned. "You did, huh?"

Ellie laughed softly as Bucky cleared the stove and turned it off, maneuvering his way back over to the bed. "Yes, I did."

Bucky pulled her off the bed and to her feet, the fake hardwood floor cold under her bare feet. He tugged her into his arms, one hand holding hers and the other on her waist, his thumb brushing over the nearly healed cut on her ribs, as he started singing softly in her ear, "Heaven, I'm in heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak. And I seem to find the happiness I seek when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek." Ellie couldn't help the giggle that escaped her as he spun her around. She wasn't sure what thrilled her more — the way his voice sounded so sexy as he sang to her this incredibly romantic song or the fact that he legitimately knew how to foxtrot. He spun her back into his arms, holding her close, as he sang, skipping some of the lyrics, "Dance with me. I want my arms about you. The charm about you will carry me through to heaven. I'm in heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak. And I seem to find the happiness I seek when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek."

Suddenly, Ellie stepped away from him, blood rushing to her face. Bucky frowned at her, confused, but she shook her head. "Sorry," Ellie said softly, breathing heavily. "I just… I just realized how late it is. I have to get dressed." Bucky nodded, still frowning, and Ellie rushed to the closet, stepping into the small space and closing the door behind her. She leaned against the closed door, not bothering to pick out clothes yet and just focusing on controlling her heart rate. She couldn't fall for the on-the-run assassin hiding out in her apartment, cooking her food, tending her wounds, dancing with her, and singing old-fashioned love songs. She couldn't; she just couldn't.

* * *

That night when Ellie came home from the café, she was greeted by a military-style knife flying through the air and lodging in the door frame mere inches from her head. Ellie gasped, hand flying to her chest. Bucky's quiet grin from across the room only served to infuriate her more. "What the hell?" she demanded. "You could've killed me!"

Bucky shook his head. "Doll, I think we both know I have more control with weapons than that. If I'd wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. That was just to get your adrenaline up a little."

Ellie eyed him warily as he shut the door behind her, dropping her messenger bag on the floor. "Why?"

"Because your training starts tonight," Bucky declared, crossing the room to her. He suddenly threw a punch at her shoulder, and Ellie couldn't contain the small squeak of terror as she dodged the blow, stepping backward. Her back hit the front door hard as Bucky pulled the knife from the door frame and held it to her throat for a split second. He backed off, giving her space to recover herself. "You were absolutely helpless yesterday when that guy pulled a knife on you. I hated it. I'm not always going to be sitting right there next to you when guys like that come around, or if the bastards after me suddenly show up. You need to know how to defend yourself if you're ever alone in that situation."

Ellie asked hesitantly, "You think you can teach me to protect myself?"

Bucky flipped the Marine knife, tucking it back in a scabbard on his thigh that Ellie hadn't remembered seeing there before. "I know I can," Bucky said. "You'd hardly be the first girl I've taught to fight. The difference here is that your goal isn't an assassination, it's self-defense. Much easier to teach, if we're perfectly honest." Suddenly, Bucky closed the space between them, grabbing Ellie by the wrist and flipping her around, pressing her back tightly against his chest and pulling her away from the door. "Now, defend yourself."

Bucky and Ellie spent the next two hours sparring. Or rather, Bucky toyed with Ellie as she constantly struggled and failed to not fall all over herself. Bucky was surprisingly patient with her though, correcting her stances and criticizing her movements. By the time he declared the training session over, Ellie was sweaty and breathing heavily, but Bucky seemed entirely unaffected. Ellie pouted as she sat down on the bed, nursing her left wrist in particular as she could swear she'd sprained it in an incorrect attempt to break Bucky's hold on the joint. Reappearing from the kitchen, Bucky sat next to her and gently took her wrist from her, his fingers tender as he pressed a homemade ice pack on the injury. Ellie bit her lip, refusing to let herself whimper, but she couldn't help the tremble in her arm when the cold ice made contact. Bucky offered her a small smile as he said, "You did really well today, you know."

Ellie scoffed. "I didn't successfully get away from you even once."

Bucky shook his head. "You didn't, but I didn't expect you to on the first day. I meant that, as far as your raw, untrained ability to fight goes, you did ok. With more training from me, you could actually be good." Ellie accepted the compliment with a small smile but stayed silent, watching as Bucky wrapped her wrist tightly in white bandages then reapplied the ice pack. "All right. Dinner's ready. Come on, doll." Bucky stood and headed back to the kitchen, and Ellie couldn't help but smile more as she watched him go. His black tactical pants hugged his hips and thighs just right, making Ellie bite her lip to hide any signs that she found the assassin serving her Italian food attractive as hell. She sighed and followed him to the card table, relieved that the intense training session was officially over.

* * *

 **November 3, 2015**

Ellie sat on the couch, leaning against Bucky's side as she studied her Abnormal Psychology textbook, her face hot and sweaty and her nose stuffy, and Bucky read her book over her shoulder. Her stomach roiled as the flu caught her in its grasp. She'd tried to give Bucky as much space as possible while she was sick, but he'd refused, instead sticking closer to her than ever in an attempt to take even better care of her. She'd grumbled but accepted the babying, unwilling to admit to anyone but herself that it felt incredibly good to be treated like a helpless child while she was sick. He hadn't even allowed her to go to class the day her fever broke the one hundred degrees mark. She'd argued, of course, but he'd insisted that she could have a sick day, then threatened to tie her up and force her to stay home if she tried to go to school or work that day since pleading wasn't getting him what he wanted, so she'd finally consented.

Now that she was snuggled against his chest in her comfiest pajamas and his zip-up hoodie, totally drained of energy, Ellie was grateful that Bucky was so incredibly stubborn as her eyes glazed over as she stared unseeing at the pages of the textbook. She was surprised when she felt his fingers brushing through her hair, and even more astounded when she realized it was his metal hand sending a chill down her spine. Ever since he'd choked her, he'd been intentionally refusing to touch her with what he seemed to consider the more dangerous of his two hands, but Ellie guessed he must be getting braver. "Can I do anything for you?" he mumbled suddenly, his chin resting on the top of her head.

Ellie thought about it for a moment. "You could get a haircut," she teased, reaching up and ruffling his long dark hair. He chuckled at that. "Seriously, though. You got a cell phone just a couple days ago to make sure that I have a way to contact you at all times because you're afraid that some Russian bastards are going to find us together here —"

"International bastards," Bucky corrected with an amused grin.

"Yet you haven't cut your hair in God only knows how long," Ellie finished. "Wouldn't a cut make you less recognizable to your enemies?"

Bucky snorted, though Ellie didn't understand the joke. "It might also make me more recognizable to some," he said, but he ignored the confused look on Ellie's face.

Choosing to let the comment go, Ellie said, "That reminds me. Your new cell phone. You've got to stop with that mess."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't report in hourly," Ellie whined. "I have classes! You can't seriously expect me to text you that I'm alive in the middle of class, and then when I can't you call? Do you have any idea how much my professors hate me now?"

Bucky flushed a little at that. "All right, all right, I'm sorry. No more mid-class check-ins. I just… I worry about your safety. If anyone realizes I'm hanging around you and decides to use you to come after me…"

"Who the hell could possibly figure that out?" Ellie laughed.

Bucky looked like he was going to say something, but then he stopped himself. Shaking his head, he muttered, "Trust me; you don't want to find out."

Ellie frowned at that as she noticed Bucky's eyes growing distant. In an effort to ground him to reality, she asked, "Hey, for real, could you maybe make me some tea? My throat hurts really bad."

Bucky shook his head hard, and Ellie could see the focus return in his gaze. "Yeah, sure," he said quietly, and Ellie leaned off him as he stood up and shuffled over to the kitchen. She heard him clanging around in there, and then the microwave beeped a minute later, and he was back with a hot cup of white tea brewed in apple juice and mixed with honey, exactly how she liked it.

Ellie accepted the cup of tea he offered her with a croaked, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said as he slipped back into his seat on the couch behind her, jostling her as little as possible.

When his arm found its way back around her shoulders, Ellie reached up with her free hand and intertwined her fingers with his metal ones, ignoring the chill the cool metal sent through her body. He jumped slightly at the unexpected contact, but he tightened the hold, relishing the gentleness of the contact. Ellie mumbled softly, "You're really comfy, you know that?"

Bucky chuckled. "Oh, really?"

Ellie nodded, humming softly. "Yep. Maybe instead of an international assassin, you can just spend the rest of your life as my new pillow instead."

Laughing outright, Bucky used his human hand to tenderly stroke her hair. "Yeah, sure, doll. Whatever you want." Ellie unconsciously leaned into the touch. It was funny, really, how much she'd grown to care about this idiot of a man. He was completely ridiculous, and she knew it. He was still struggling with all the modern technology she took for granted, but he caught on quickly to anything she taught him. Being around Bucky was almost like falling into an Audrey Hepburn movie, but still somehow mixed with the modern age, and Ellie couldn't help but love it. Despite the short amount of time they'd lived together, it felt to her as if they'd been living together for ages now, she'd grown so comfortable with his presence. Ellie could still feel Bucky's sharp edges, but it was like they'd been dulled somewhat now that he was more focused on taking care of her in the present rather than examining his tragic past. He broke her train of thought by saying, "I'll be here to protect you, you know, if the bad guys ever come around."

Ellie snickered, trying not to laugh outright. "The bad guys, huh?"

Bucky rolled his eyes at her. "Oh, shut up, punk; I'm serious. The people who are after me… some of whom you might even consider good guys… They're dangerous as hell. They won't hesitate to hurt you to get to me, but I'll never let that happen, ok?"

Ellie's face sobered at his serious tone, and she nodded. "Ok."


End file.
